


Stating the Obvious

by theimprobable1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Fluff, Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimprobable1/pseuds/theimprobable1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Romance is always more important than friendship, no matter how deep the friendship is.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stating the Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt.](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/10038.html?thread=51217462) Unbetaed.

Living with Victor was everything Sherlock had ever wanted. Or rather, it was everything he had never thought he could want. Victor was clever, not at all boring and he understood Sherlock, he liked him the way he was and didn’t try to change him. It was perfect, and for the first time in his life Sherlock felt like he’d found the place where he belonged. He didn’t care how trite it sounded -- he felt complete. Whole. Loved.

And then, of course, Victor met Charlene. At first, Sherlock thought that Victor just needed her to satisfy his sexual needs. Victor assured him that nothing between them would change. That was Victor’s first lie. Everything changed, quickly, irrevocably. The time Victor had for Sherlock dropped sharply, the casual and not-so-casual touches disappeared one by one, the affectionate smiles now belonged to Charlene. Victor started spending the nights at her place with increasing frequency, and in the end moved in with her for good. In the course of a few months, Sherlock and Victor had gone from possible life-partners to mere acquaintances.

Sherlock vowed to himself never to make the same mistake again. And yet, he’s made it anyway.

John is in many ways better than Victor, but he’s just a man, however exceptional. He and Mary are currently visiting her family, and that’s not a good sign. It means John’s relationship with Mary is serious and he’s going to leave soon. Sherlock should never have let himself believe otherwise. Romance is always more important than friendship, no matter how deep the friendship is. Sherlock should have learnt his lesson the first time, but he hasn’t, and now he’ll have to live with it. Learn to be alone again, to have no one to laugh with or be miserable with, no one to ruffle his hair and tell him he’s an idiot. He’s done all he could think of to stop John from leaving, and he failed. Now all he can do is enjoy his last few weeks with John, and then deal with the solitude somehow.

“Sulking again, are we?” John is standing in the doorway. Sherlock was so lost in his grim thoughts that he didn’t hear him enter.

“Bored,” he says, and he continues to lie on the sofa, even though a large part of him wants to go and hug John close to his chest while he still can.

“You could’ve cleaned the kitchen,” John says, putting the kettle on, but there’s no real anger or disappointment in his voice. He probably doesn’t care about the state of the kitchen anymore, since it will soon cease to be his.

“Boring.” He hesitates, and then decides to be a considerate friend and asks, “How did it go?” even though he already knows, by the tone of John’s voice and the rhythm of his step, that it went well.

“Fine, I suppose,” John calls from the kitchen, and Sherlock can hear him pouring hot water in two cups. “Mary’s grandmother kept talking about how she was looking forward to the wedding. We couldn’t convince here that there wasn’t any wedding.” He chuckles.

“But there will be,” Sherlock says before he can stop himself.

“What?” John emerges from the kitchen, carrying two steaming cups of tea. “I’m not going to marry her, Sherlock, we don’t even live together.”

 _Not yet_ , Sherlock thinks, and John frowns at him.

“Move,” John says, and Sherlock sits up to make room for him on the sofa and then leans against his good shoulder, savouring John’s warmth.

John is silent for a moment, and then he says, very softly, “I’m not going to live with her, Sherlock. I thought you knew that.”

Sherlock snorts. Victor said exactly the same thing.

“I didn’t realise you were worried about this,” John continues. “Mary’s great and I like her a lot, but that’s all. She’s not… well, she’s not you.”

“But you have sex with her,” Sherlock points out. “You don’t have sex with me.” Oh god, he’s been reduced to stating the obvious. What has John done to him?

John hesitates. “Yes. You… We’ve never talked about this. I didn’t know you minded.”

“I don’t,” Sherlock says, and it’s true, he doesn’t want to sleep with John, but at the same time he doesn’t like the idea that he hormones released during orgasm will make John fall in love with someone else. “It’s just…” He doesn’t know how to continue, he doesn’t know how to describe what he feels. It's preposterous - words shouldn't fail him, they never do.

But John doesn’t need him to say anything else, because John is wonderful and he understands him even at the rare times when Sherlock isn’t making any sense.

John pulls him into a hug.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers in Sherlock’s hair. “I do love Mary, in a way, but I love you, too, in a completely different way. In case you didn’t notice. I don’t know how to explain this. I just... want this, with you. Do you know that feeling, when you accidentally find something and it’s exactly what you need, you just didn’t know it before?”

“Yes,” Sherlock breathes, pulling John closer. His John.

John kisses the top of his head. “I want to spend my life with my best friend. Mary understands, and I don’t care what other people think.”

Sherlock thinks he should say something to that, express his own attachment, but he’s never been any good at talking about emotions, and he can sense that it’s all making John a little uncomfortable. He just holds him tighter, and as relief spreads over him, he knows that that’s enough. Hugs increase the levels of oxytocin too, after all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stating the Obvious [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696724) by [Lockedinjohnlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lockedinjohnlock/pseuds/Lockedinjohnlock)




End file.
